


Mononoke

by senshoo



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Princess Mononoke, Forest Runner!Yuuri, Hand Jobs, Hasetsu as a village surrounded by a forest, M/M, Mention of animal death for hunting purposes, OC Character Death, Rating May Change, Tags to be added, Tree Sex, Yuuri befriending a god, brief description of a dead body, god!Victor, mushroom hunting, victor being incredibly beautiful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2018-12-11 17:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11718813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senshoo/pseuds/senshoo
Summary: And it was then that he realized that love wasn’t the warm, soft feeling that he had been fooled into believing it was. Love was an awful, terrible feeling. A monster that curled up deep in his belly and clawed its way up his throat, tearing him up on the inside until he wasn’t sure where he ended and where Victor began. Left him mangled into a terrible abomination of parts that couldn’t function independently, anymore. He wanted Victor to swallow him whole. To chew him up and swallow every part of him until he didn’t have to be away from him, ever again.He felt hollow. So thoroughly carved from the inside out that there was nothing left but empty spaces for Victor to fill. And it was horrible, painful, dreadful, and it was love.(Or, a Princess Mononoke AU in which Victor is the god of the forest that surrounds Hasetsu who decides to teach Yuuri everything he knows and Yuuri may or may not fall in love along the way)





	1. Chapter 1

It was fall. That messy, deep mud, river bubbling stutter between harsher seasons. A calm whisper before the loud bitterness of the cold and violent storms of winter which rattled the bare-branched trees. In Hasetsu and the thick forests which hugged it so closely, fall was a crashing finale to the blistering heat and slow stickiness of summer. It was Yuuri’s favorite time of the year because the rain that fell from the sky felt like butterfly kisses on the bridge of his nose and the air that whistled around him smelled like the iron from the hot springs.

Some nights he slept early, lulled by the rush of leaves scattering in the wind and the spring water behind his house hitting the walls of the tall rocks that kept it in place. Other nights, like tonight, he would grab the softest blanket he could find and sneak outside, ignoring the beginnings of visible breath in the air. He would lie on his back, chin tilted towards the endless expanse of night and count all the little glowing pinpricks of light that were so perfectly placed that he thought they must have been hung with intention. Would trace them with the very tip of his finger until his hand fell to his chest in slumber.

His mother would worry and his sister would complain about the amount of work that would be left to her when Yuuri wasn’t found in his bed the next morning, but Yuuri had been drawn to the forest that surrounded his small village since the day he had been born. The elders of the village insisted that it was because Yuuri had a connection to the gods, but his mother assured him that it was, instead, his inconsistent nature. His very soul which longed to run through the forest for as long as he could if only to discover just where the ends of the Earth lie. 

But Yuuri was different in that way. When his toes dug into the forest floor, it was with his thoughts focused on the gentle give and tickle of the moss beneath them. The air cooling the morning dew that clung to his ankles and pricking the bared skin of his arms and legs. The pleasant pattern of trees dotting his peripherals. Where others in his village were like the blistering heat of the hot springs; all fire and temper and burning, Yuuri was the cool water that bubbled in the river; always steadily moving towards some far off point. He had been born just beside that very river, an unexpected delivery for his mother who had been checking their family’s traps that day. He had learned to walk beside that river and had killed his first boar near that river. So much of his life had been spent using that river as a crutch that it was no surprise that the water had become a part of him. 

When he would eventually wake from his slumber, blanket tucked tightly around his shoulders as if someone had constantly arranged it while he slept, he would blink once. Maybe twice. And then, with a quiet chuckle he would draw forward on his knees, bend his head forward in a bow of thanks for a night of protection, and would be off to attend to his chores. 

“Ah, Yuuri! Good morning!” His father called upon seeing Yuuri dart towards him from the tree line. “How were the trees?”

Yuuri smiled, hair sticking in every direction. “I think the old tree near the river is going to have sixty rings!” 

His father hummed and tilted his head, eyes tracing the tree line. “I’m thinking maybe thirty...forty at the most!”

Yuuri shook his head defiantly. “It’ll be sixty, just you wait, Father!” And with that, he hurried into their tiny wooden house to bathe and tend to the hot spring. 

The village chief had designated that the old oak tree near the river would be cut down within the week to be harvested for lumber. Yuuri’s best friend, Takeshi, was heading the excursion which would serve as his first major leadership role for the sake of the village. Though Takeshi and Yuuri were close in age, Takeshi was beginning to take on more and more responsibility within the village. There were whispers that someday, he would be a chief. That he might even marry the chief’s daughter, Yuuko. Yuuri, on the other hand, was more concerned with silly things like discovering just how old the tree truly was and was fairly certain that once cut down, there would be at least six rings on the stump. 

“Oh, Yuuri…” His mother sighed upon seeing him. “There you are. You know I don’t mind you running off into the forest, but the boars run wild around this time of year. You must be more careful.” 

Yuuri puffed his cheeks out and toed at the ground shyly. “I always ask the God of the Forest for protection…” 

His mother turned to face him, hands on her hips. “Just because you pray for protection does  _ not _ mean that it will be granted!” She tapped her foot once, twice, before turning back to the jam she was scooping into jars. “Cleverer boys than you have been trampled to death in that forest, you know.” 

Yuuri sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I got it…”

His mother turned and patted his arm placatingly. “Why don’t you run off and check the traps? There might be something good to eat in one of them?” 

Yuuri grinned at the opportunity to run back to the forest, nodding. “Yeah, okay! Let me just grab my bag!”

With that, Yuuri was hurrying through a quick dip in the hot springs and tugging a fresh tunic over his knee pants. Once finished, he plucked his bag from the hook beside the door and slung it over his back after checking to make sure that his knife and a few other necessities such as cord and flint were present. He backpedaled to the kitchen when his mother called for him and snatched up the bread and cheese that she shoved into his hands and endured the kiss to his cheek, and then he was off. He passed Mari on the way, digging in the garden beside their father and waved in passing. A few yards later, and he was breaking into the forest. 

It was quiet, as it always appeared to be in the forest. But if Yuuri listened closely enough, he could hear water breaking over rocks, the shift of the canopy of leaves that hung in the sky above him, the sound of seeds falling to the earth, and animals crushing the grass beneath their paws as they ran. He took a deep breath. Exhaled. And then, a smile was overtaking his face as he followed the well worn path towards where he knew the traps lay after abandoning his shoes beside an old tree near the tree line. 

His village relied heavily upon traps and knives, a traditional way of hunting that many villages had abandoned. As newer technologies sprung up everyday, the ways of the people of Hasetsu became a thing of the past. Some of the villages within a few miles of Hasetsu had begun to rely more upon guns and other forms of long distance weaponry while others, across the sea, Yuuri had heard, had discovered ways to harness the magic of the gods for their own use. The thought, itself, was so preposterous that Yuuri didn’t believe it to be true. Just breathing in the crisp forest air, rife with energy and magic, Yuuri felt thankful that his was a village that valued the preservation of such things.

Hasetsu had always been a village that followed the old ways. They prayed to the gods on the solstices, great roaring fires in which they burned herbs and the bones of the animals of the forest which had sustained them. They worshipped the old gods and hunted the old way and still held the village elders in a regard above the chief, himself. Among them, they had only one gun in which, there were two bullets reserved for emergencies, only. For everything else, they used their hands. Feet. Elbows. A rock. A stick. A length of braided cord. Anything useful. They killed the boars that ran free in the forest and when they had plucked every inch of flesh from the bones, they tanned the hide and polished the bones into knives and talismen. And when there was nothing left, they prayed that the boar have safe passage to the afterlife and thanked it for its life.   
  
Hasetsu was a village of fire. A village with people who had short tempers and big mouths. A village that was so stubborn that it had stuck to the same traditions for centuries though the world around them was everchanging. While the villages around them bubbled in size and forgot their gods, the village of Hasetsu remained a testament to the old ways. The legacy that remained of the forest runners who had established the village, after generations as nomads. Their days swept by them in a constant cycle of sweltering heat and blistered toes, forest bursting with all of the resources that the villagers needed and the people longing for nothing more than a bountiful harvest and well maintained iron springs.

But where the people of Hasetsu were stubborn and set in their ways, Yuuri impulsive and drawn to the forest like the sea to the shore. As it was, Yuuri would have been coming up on the first set of traps but with a mischievous grin, he veered off the path and picked his way through the dense trees, instead, longing for an adventure. The traps could wait. Besides, his mother knew perfectly well that it was not within Yuuri’s nature to simply check and traps and immediately return. Yuuri could spend his whole life in the forest, feeling the rough bark scrape his hands and the soft moss on the pads of his toes. It was only his obligation to his family that could manage to tear him away, in the first place. 

He paused when he finally found what he was looking for, fingers tracing the rough bark of the tree that stood just beside the roaring river. He ran his palm across its thick trunk, measuring just how many of his hands it would take to encompass the width of the tree. He paused, framing the tree between his hands and then glancing upward at the thick leaves that hung from its branches. Scraped at the bark with his knife to observe how easily it pulled apart before returning this knife to his bag with a nod to himself. Definitely sixty rings.    
  


Satisfied, he turned and moved to make his way back to the path when something caught his eye from across the river. He turned quickly, drawing his knife from his bag in case it was a wild boar. But when he glanced out across the river, there was nothing but water and the empty bank. The water looked the same as it always did and the current flowed as it should, indicating that there had been no recent disturbance. Yuuri hesitantly put his knife away after tracing the water for several moments in order to assure himself that he was seeing everything correctly. He turned around and moved to return to the path, forcing himself to let his shoulders relax from the tense way he had been holding them before. His mother must have spooked him with all her talk of trampling.

But still, he had an overwhelming feeling that he was being watched. He paused, back to the river, and let his toes sink heavily into the muddy earth, glad that he had abandoned his shoes once he had broken through the tree line. The ground just never felt right through his shoes. He couldn’t feel the vibrations of movement through leather soles and he couldn’t find his way as easily if he couldn’t feel if the ground was wet or not. 

It was still, not even the faint movement of an animal present. Yuuri shivered and hesitantly turned back to the river, heart in his throat. He couldn’t explain why he felt so certain that someone was there, but he couldn’t make himself move away. Had someone from the village nearby wandered into their forest? He didn’t feel threatened just...unsettled. He glanced around the river bank and observed the untrodden sand and mud, once more. He sighed heavily and decided that he must be imagining things. Just to be safe, he murmured a quick prayer to the God of the Forest. Though, remembering his mother’s words, he knew that that didn’t necessarily guarantee his safety.

He decided to just make his way to the traps as quickly as possible and head home. Usually, he would have spent many more hours in the forest, but he knew perfectly well not to ignore his instincts. His people hadn’t survived in this forest for as long as they had by ignoring their guts. 

But as he turned back towards the direction of the pathway, he felt all of the blood flood away from his face and his heart come to a stuttering halt in his chest. Just as he had turned around, he came face to face with another human standing there, staring at him. Yuuri shrieked and flinched away, fumbling with his bag to draw his knife forward, pointing it threateningly. 

“H-hey! Who are y-you and what are you doing h-here?” He asked, nearly groaning in frustration at the squeaky and overall non-threatening tone of his voice. “I don’t want to use this, but I will!” He jabbed his knife forward in the air in threat. 

The boy tilted his head curiously, sending a tumble of long hair falling over the gentle slope of a shoulder. He seemed a few years older than Yuuri. And taller. Could probably overpower him quite easily. But the boy didn’t appear to have a weapon on him and was dressed only in a pair of leather knee pants and a pale green tunic. There were even little flowers embroidered around the hemline. Yuuri eyed the boy up and down in suspicion, but the boy only appeared completely at ease. He didn’t even respond to the presence of Yuuri’s knife. Definitely someone who could easily overpower him, then. Where had he  _ come  _ from? They were  _ miles  _ from the closest village.

The person before him didn’t bother to blink, the noticing of which seeming to trigger a compulsive need in Yuuri to blink as much as possible to compensate, though he was frustrated at his inability to keep his eyes open. It was an amateur mistake to make in the face of a potential enemy, but he had never felt quite so _looked at_ before. Like someone was seeing much more than just a boy with pudgy cheeks and muddy toes. Like he was being split open and all of his secrets spilled out. They stood there, staring at the each other. Yuuri with his knife and the other boy with his head tilted in question. It was silent long enough that Yuuri cleared his throat and prepared to speak, again, only for the boy to interrupt him.   
  
“You’re a human.” The person whispered, voice melodic. The whistling of the wind through reeds. The boy’s eyes were still looking through him unblinkingly, though his quiet voice made him seem simultaneously more real and imaginary.  
  
Yuuri found himself shrinking, head nearly bowed. He took a step back before he even realized that he was moving, frightened by the person before him who seemed both human and not. However, in a desire to not be looked down upon, Yuuri forced himself to straighten his spine out, chin lifted definitely. Jutted his knife forward.   
  
His hair was long and as silver as spun starlight, grazing sculpted collarbones. Eyes a glittering sea glass. Brown. Blue. Green. Every color imaginable. And they positively glittered in amusement. “You are, aren’t you? A human?” A gently tapered finger curled under his chin in thought.

Yuuri clenched his jaw and dug his toes into the mud, ignoring the way the dirt squelched around them. “Of course I am! You are, too!” Silence. Long enough for Yuuri’s knife to fall ever so slightly towards his side. “You are, aren’t you?”

The boy tucked a long strand of silver hair behind his ear and smiled. “Ah, you’re from Hasetsu, aren’t you? That explains all the fire in you…”   
  


Yuuri widened his stance and squared his shoulders in defiance. He refused to answer, chin stuck in the air and eyes narrowed in enough feigned arrogance to make his grandfather proud. The other’s smile only seemed to grow in response. And only then, did he finally blink, long eyelashes curling against a sharp cheek. “It always is such a delight to see you little forest runners.” 

Yuuri could feel his heart making its way up his throat and he was fairly certain that he would only be capable of maintaining his air of confidence for a few more minutes before he somehow collapsed in on himself from the force of keeping his panic at bay. He chose not to answer, not because he was above it, but because he was fairly certain that if he opened his mouth, he would surely vomit. He was hesitant to admit it, but he was well on his way to working himself into a fit that would only serve to incapacitate him in the presence of an unknown person. He had been running through these forests his whole life and had never seen someone from outside Hasetsu this far in its depths. If someone had managed to make it to this point, it was because they were skilled. And if they were that skilled, Yuuri had only managed to find them because they  _ wanted  _ to be found. 

“Ah, you need to check your traps, don’t you?” The boy announced as though he had suddenly remembered. “They’re empty, but don’t take my word for it.” His eyes were still glittering and happy and the sight made Yuuri’s heart hesitate and his mouth eager to let words tumble free. He was the most beautiful human Yuuri had ever seen, but he could very well be a trained killer, and Yuuri  _ had _ to squash those sorts of admissions before they could hinder his judgement. 

“Well, then. I’ll let you get to it, then.” The boy finally murmured, voice soft and Yuuri could swear that the sound of it sent a little breeze his way, caressing the sunburned skin of his cheek. 

And then, the boy was turning and disappearing into the tree line, away from the path and it was like he had never been there in the first place. Yuuri didn’t even see any tracks in the mud from where the boy’s narrow feet had been pressed into the mud. 

He felt like he could finally breathe, but the first greedy gulp of air he managed after the boy’s appearance only brought another and then another and then, he had well and truly worked himself into a panic. Where had the boy come from? He didn’t look like anyone from Hasetsu, and he didn’t look like he was from the surrounding villages, either. And Yuuri would know. There were few left who lived off of the expansive forest, and so they made a habit of staying out of each other’s way. Was the boy dangerous? Did he have one of those guns? Did his whole village? Would they arrive at Hasetsu and blow away all the fire of his people with fire of their own? 

His knees buckled, and it was only when he caught himself on the bark of the tree beside the river that he managed to keep himself upright. He lifted a hand to his chest and rubbed at the spot on his tunic that covered the skin, hoping that he could urge himself into some form of calm. He had to get back to his village and warn the elders. They would know what to do. 

He nodded to himself and the decision seemed to bring with it enough calm and clarity that he managed to dislodge his feet from the mud and hurry back to the path, feet beating against the ground harshly and wind at his back. 

The trees rustled and whistled as he made his way back, but he paid it no mind, focused instead on getting to the tree line that surrounded Hasetsu as quickly as possible and only when he had pushed through, forgotten shoes pinched between two fingers, did he allow himself to catch his breath, hunched over with hands on his knees. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. When he had managed to get ahold of himself, he straightened and hurried to the center of the village, where he would surely be able to get ahold of one of the elders. 

However, as he drew closer, he noticed that the village center seemed to be bustling with more activity than usual. Panting, Yuuri drew closer to the large crowd that had gathered before the chief’s house. There was a lot of shouting and whooping, loud enough that Yuuri couldn’t really make out any individual exclamations, in particular. It was only as he was pushing his way through the crowd that he understood what all the yelling was for. 

Right there, in the center of the crowd, was positively the biggest boar Yuuri had ever seen in his life. It had a knife through it’s left shoulder and Takeshi was leaning over it, preparing to slice its throat and send it on it’s way to the afterlife. Yuuri gasped at the sheer mass of the animal, eyes tracing it from snout to tail. Where had Takeshi even managed to  _ find _ something so big? 

Yuuri glanced around the crowd and caught sight of Yuuko. He slowly worked his way closer to her, hoping that she would be able to explain where the massive animal had come from. She was dressed casually, hair in a short braid and tunic plain, obviously caught in the middle of her chores when all the excitement had begun. 

When he was standing beside her, Yuuri shoved his sweaty palm into hers, interlacing their fingers and squeezing twice in greeting before removing his hand. “Where in the world did Takeshi manage to get his hands on a boar that big?” Yuuri asked, speaking loudly enough to be heard but not loudly enough to compete with the excited whoops still echoing around him. 

Yuuko grinned widely and answered, voice ringing with thinly veiled excitement. “That’s the thing! The boar just  _ walked _ right into the center of the village!” She glanced around before ducking her head so that her lips were closer to Yuuri’s ear, speaking quietly though her excitement was just as present. “The elders think that it was a gift from the God of the Forest! We’re going to hold a celebration tonight in thanks!” 

Yuuri blinked and smiled, eyes glancing back to the tree line that he had just burst through. Gifts from the God of the Forest weren’t  _ unthinkable _ , but they were hardly ever so obvious. The God of the Forest worked in smaller ways. A nice breeze to dry their laundry. Fertile soil for their crops. Never a boar massive enough to feed their entire village. He could feel the pure energy from the crowd buzzing just beneath his skin in excitement. The fire of his people was beginning to build to bursting point as several people moved forward to heft the boar upwards from the ground, struggling under its weight. Others began to hurry back to their homes to draw out firewood and small sacrifices that they could afford to give as thanks to the gods. 

Yuuri, himself, allowed the excitement to flood over him so thoroughly that he completely forgot about the traps that he had been sent to check. He forgot about measuring the tree with his palms. Forgot about digging his toes into the mud and feeling the stirring of the forest beneath him. Forgot about the boy that he had seen. He did  _ not  _ forget about seaglass eyes, but only because that was impossible. 

\---

When he woke the next day, nestled in the thick grass just behind their wooden house, it was with a groan of realization. Why hadn’t he remembered to tell the elders about the boy he had seen in the forest? It was almost as if the memory had simply been plucked from his head  and tucked behind more important things like feasting and celebrating, but now that he was nursing a belly that was still impossibly full from the night before, he was realizing his blunder. 

The elders would not be available this early in the morning, but Yuuri figured that if he got to the forest quickly, he might be able to catch the boy before he had a chance to break down his camp. The forest was large enough that it simply wasn’t feasible for the boy to have made his way anywhere other than Hasetsu and the guards hadn’t alerted the village in the night, so the boy must still be in the forest. 

He hurried back to the house to grab his bag and knife, shouting a greeting to his mother, and then he was out the door and making a break for the tree line before anyone could stop him. He dropped his shoes near the base of the first tree he came across, and then he was taking off into the forest, abandoning the well worn path for the thicker splattering of trees and moss. 

He knew this forest better than he knew the entirety of the village of Hasetsu, so he had no trouble picking his way back to the river. He paused every once in a while, digging his toes into the ground for movement and smelling the air for smoke, only to be met with nothing but the clear air and stillness of the forest, breath escaping in delicate spider webs of fog in the early morning frost. 

He was growing increasingly more frustrated at the skill of the boy. For him to have evaded Yuuri so thoroughly when Yuuri had been running in these forests his whole life was a capital offense. The forest had practically raised Yuuri. Had been there for every major event of his life. Yuuri knew the forest like an old friend. Certainly better than some stranger. Eventually, when Yuuri had managed to very thoroughly track nearly every possible place that the boy could have set up camp, only to come up empty handed, Yuuri settled down by the banks of the river, defeated. Occasionally, he would pick up a stone and toss it angrily into the water, thoughts swirling at rapid fire as he attempted to devise a course of action, but for the most part, he simply stared at the swirling currents, wondering how the boy had managed to slip out of his grasp. 

By this point, Yuuri was less concerned with the possible danger that the boy posed and more with the fact that Yuuri, who had been born on the banks of this very river, whose very veins traced out the forest paths, whose soul was the steaming iron springs of Hasetsu, could have been so thoroughly tricked by some gangly boy who seemed as if a strong breeze could have sent him tumbling. 

He huffed and tossed yet another rock into the river, watching in satisfaction as it thunked against a large stone in the center of the current and plunked into the water with a satisfying splash. 

“That’s rather rude, you know…” A voice whispered in his ear, suddenly. As if not wanting the river to overhear. 

Yuuri shrieked and scrambled to turn around, drawing his knife out of his bag and waving it in the face of the boy with the star spun hair. “I-It’s you!” He announced, poking his knife threateningly. 

The boy blinked, eyes wide, and then he glanced down at himself, taking in the sight of his buttery soft leather knee pants and loose tunic. “Ah, it would it appear that I am, in fact, me.” 

Yuuri bared his teeth, all but snarling at the boy. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

“Why am I here?” The boy blinked. “Well, I live here, silly.” 

Yuuri blinked. “I’ve been running through this forest my whole life. You don’t live here.”

His knife had dropped a quarter of an inch, but as the boy stepped closer, Yuuri raised it, once more. “Don’t come any closer!” Yuuri threatened. 

The boy tilted his head curiously. “But this is my forest. I may walk where I wish.”

Yuuri tilted his chin forward and puffed his chest in indignation. And then, he spoke the words that had been burning on his tongue since he had first laid eyes upon this stranger boy. They thrummed in his veins, demanding that he give them voice. “This forest belongs to the people of Hasetsu. We have traversed this forest for centuries and we have an ancestral claim to the land. This is our forest.”

The boy simply smiled. “Those are some tough words for such a young human.” 

Yuuri tilted his head, brow raised and knife waving from the head of the boy to the toe. “You’re not that much older than me, you know...”

The boy blinked. “Is that so?” Then, the boy lifted a hand, causing an instinctual reaction in Yuuri to tense his shoulders and widen his stance. However, instead of pushing his hand forward threateningly, the boy simply dragged his hand down his face. There was a buzz of  _ something _ in the air. Like wild energy. It raised the hairs on Yuuri’s arm and he could feel his arms trembling in its wake. And then, impossibly, when the boy dragged his hand away from his face, he was much,  _ much _ older. “What about now? Am I appropriately old now, boy?” The figure spoke around the mound of wrinkles that made up his face, seaglass eyes now milky with age. 

Yuuri yelped and took a few hurried steps backward, in an attempt to put some distance between himself and the boy. His knife was shaking in one hand, so he lifted another to hold the hilt with both. “W-Who are you?” 

“My name is Victor.” The person announced. He swept a hand down his face, once more, and he was back to having delicate cheekbones and a gently sloped nose, not a wrinkle in sight. He tucked a strand of impossibly long hair behind his ear and smiled. 

‘Victor’? That didn’t sound like any of the names from the surrounding villages. Just what  _ was _ this person, and where had he come from? Had Takeshi been right, after all? Were the rumors about the people across the sea who controlled the power of the gods true? “W-what are you?”

Victor grinned and gestured around himself with much gusto. “I am the God of this Forest.” 

Yuuri blinked and allowed the silence to settle heavily in the air around them before scoffing. “Nice try. The God of the Forest doesn’t have a physical form. And besides, he wouldn’t bother with appearing before someone like me, even if he did.” 

Victor blinked. “Someone like you?”

Yuuri’s knife lowered to the ground, once more. “W-Well, yeah. I’m just some ordinary kid from Hasetsu. What would the God of the Forest want from me…?” And then, he seemed to remember himself. “Which doesn’t matter because you’re not the God of the Forest!”

Victor brought a finger to his lips in thought. A few tense moments of silence passed before he seemed to have an idea. “I know! What if I could prove it to you?”

Yuuri shrugged, skeptical. “Fine. Go ahead.” He gestured behind himself. “Make the river stop flowing then, if you’re so high and mighty.” 

Victor sighed, shoulders slumped like a child and not looking very much like a god, at all. “Well, I  _ was _ hoping that you would ask for something a little more difficult.” He brought his pointer finger and thumb together in a loose circle with his other fingers fanned out and pulled it to his lips before softly blowing outward. Yuuri blinked as that same wild feeling of pure energy buzzing in the air tickled his skin and he had to fight to stop himself from curling his shoulders inward and buckling under the pressure. 

When the energy had faded and Yuuri managed to glance behind himself at the river, he was amazed to find that the water was still. Like smoothed glass. In all his years playing at the banks of the same river, it had  _ never _ been so still. Gaping, he turned back to the boy, heart hammering in a curious mix of excitement and apprehension. 

“How did you do that?” Yuuri demanded, forcing his eyes back to Victor’s which were shining in childlike glee. 

“Human.” Victor pointed to Yuuri before pointing back to himself. “God.” 

Yuuri’s cheek twitched in mild irritation. “Yeah, well how do I know you’re not some trickster god?”

Victor scoffed. “As if any other god could make it this far into the forest without being stopped.”

Yuuri’s knees were bent slightly, shoulders hunkered down, prepared to run. He wanted to be brave and straighten them back out, but he feared doing so would only invite them to quiver. “What do you want from me?” 

“Be at ease, child. I mean you no harm. I have protected the people of Hasetsu since before you were even born.” 

Yuuri’s brows furrowed. It was strange to be called a child by someone who appeared to be not much older than he was. Even if he was starting to believe that Victor was who he said he was. “I have a name, you know.”

“Oh?” Victor questioned curiously. “And what would that be?” 

Yuuri puffed his chest out proudly. “I am Yuuri of Hasetsu. Son of Toshiya and Hiroko. Maintainer of the western springs.”

Victor chuckled. “Well, then,  _ Yuuri of Hasetsu _ , it is a pleasure to meet you.”

And with that, Victor turned and began to walk away from Yuuri as if Yuuri was merely just a passerby he had only greeted out of politeness. Yuuri blinked and called out to him. 

“Hey, where are you going?” His voice was laced with frustration. He wasn’t quite sure if he should be planting himself at Victor’s feet or thrusting his knife forward, again, so he settled for keeping his stance even. “Hey!” 

Victor turned and glanced at Yuuri from over his shoulder. “Yes? Is there something you need, Yuuri of Hasetsu?”

Yuuri blinked in shock. “That’s it? You’re just going to leave?”

Victor chuckled. “Well, you are more than welcome to come along, if that is what you wish.”

And then he was turning and leaving without another word, disappearing into the tree line as if he had not a care in the world. Yuuri blinked and allowed the silence to settle until it was just the hum of the river resuming motion and the puff of his own breath. And then, before he could really give it much more thought, he was barreling through the tree line after Victor. 

\---

Something occurred to him after a few minutes of silently walking beside Victor. “Say, how come no one in Hasetsu knows your name? You are our patron god, but everyone just knows you as the God of the Forest…”

Victor hummed in acknowledgement. “Of course I have a name. All of us gods do. But even the name of a god is laced with magic. I can’t trust just anyone with it.”

Yuuri furrowed his brows in confusion and focused his gaze on the dirt and fallen leaves he was kicking through. “But why me? Why would you trust  _ me _ with it?” 

Victor turned his gaze to Yuuri and the sheer pull of that look dragged Yuuri’s eyes up from the ground. “Well, Yuuri of Hasetsu, you  _ have _ been running in this forest your whole life, haven’t you? And this land is your ancestral heritage, right? And you did dare to wave a knife in my face, didn’t you?” 

Yuuri could feel his cheeks heating as blood rushed up to them. “Yeah, well, that was before I knew you were a god…” He mumbled. 

Victor chuckled. “The truth is, Yuuri, I’ve been watching you for quite some time. You were born on the banks of the river, after all. You really  _ have _ been running through the forest your whole life and though this form,” he gestured down to himself, “is a rather new concoction of mine, the forest remembers you, well. I knew I could trust you with my name from the moment you planted your tiny feet in my mud.” 

So Victor  _ did  _ know who he was. Had been there for every tumblr he had taken from a wobbly branch and every missed arrow. The thought sent heat, rapidfire and quick, rocketing to his cheeks. “So why did you pretend to not recognize me, then?” 

Victor hummed again. “Well, I quite enjoyed seeing you puff your chest out and push your knife at me…” He barked out a laugh. “I can assure you, no one has ever done  _ that  _ before! What a lovely surprise!”

Yuuri groaned. “So you let me scare myself halfway to madness because you were  _ bored _ ?”

Victor winced. “Maybe a little.” 

Yuuri nodded and turned his eyes back to the thick canopy of trees that hung in the air above them. “And is that why you appeared to me?” 

Victor grinned widely and the sight nearly sent Yuuri tripping over an upturned root. “You  _ are _ endlessly fascinating, after all. I had had quite enough of being the wind on your back or the trees in your path. I wanted to  _ speak  _ with you!” 

“ _ Speak _ with me? Shouldn’t you be curing illnesses or saving the endangered? You know, god stuff?” Yuuri groaned and fiddled with the strap of his bag. “What in the world am I going to tell the elders? No one is going to believe this.” 

Victor blinked and stopped walking, face impossibly serious. “Yuuri, you cannot tell your elders about me.”

Yuuri stopped walking and turned to face Victor. “What? Why? All the people of Hasetsu  _ adore _ you.” 

Victor nodded. “I understand that, but I just cannot have your entire village scouring the forests for me. I protect Hasetsu and I enjoy the thanks that I get in return, but I have no desire to hold any sort of tangible power in your village.”

Yuuri sucked in a sudden breath and let it out all at once. “O-Oh…”

Victor reached forward, hand hesitating inches from Yuuri before continuing on its path to run cool fingers through his hair. Yuuri nearly shivered at the raw energy that pulsed through him in response. “Do not misunderstand me, Yuuri. I love Hasetsu and I love its people. More than even you do. But you are different, Yuuri. You were born on the banks of the river and the soul of this forest runs through your blood. The rest of your people are fiery in nature and traditional at heart. I cannot trust that they won’t lose themselves in a hunt for me.” 

Yuuri nodded hesitantly. He remembered the massive boar from last night. The way his people had crowded around it and had whooped and hollered in joy until the sun had ducked behind the trees. And even then, the fire had roared until the last of them had nodded off to sleep. The air had been dense with cries of joy and thanks to the God of the Forest. All that for one boar. If his people knew that all of the power of the God of the Forest was concentrated in one form, could Yuuri trust them not to destroy the entire forest in their search for it? Could he trust them to not demand that Victor lead them? He wasn’t sure that he wanted to find out. 

“I knew you would understand, Yuuri.” Victor whispered, hands still working through his hair. “I knew it the moment you were born on the banks of my river.”

Yuuri ducked his head and nodded. It felt like a betrayal, to keep such a large secret from his people, but Yuuri also knew that Victor was right. At the very least, he should trust him because he was the god of this forest. He couldn’t deny the warmth that blossomed in his chest in the wake of approval from the spirit that he had looked up to for most of his life. 

“And in return,” Victor suddenly announced, voice warm. “I will teach you about the forest.” 

Yuuri blinked. “About the forest? But I know all there is to know about this forest. I’ve been running in it all my life!” 

“How very human of you, to think there is nothing left to learn,” he gestured around himself at the sweeping arches of branches and trunks, at the wild flowers and berry bushes, “I’m afraid that there are places in this forest that not even you have traversed, my little forest runner.” 

Yuuri couldn’t fight the raw excitement bubbling within him in response. “And you’ll show them to me? These secret places?”

Victor smiled so widely that Yuuri felt blood rushing to his cheeks, again. “Of course! These lands are your birthright, after all. I will share them with you just as I shared them with your ancestors.”

Yuuri whooped in joy, calling out thanks to the God of the Forest in a habitual reaction before realizing that the God of the Forest was standing  _ right next to him _ . “Can we start right now? I’m ready!” His toes dug into the ground below him in excitement. 

“I’m afraid we will have to leave that exploration for another day. Your mother is calling for you.” Victor patted his head once, twice, and then was pushing Yuuri forward until he was stumbling. Stumbling all the way out of the tree line and standing in view of his tiny wooden house.

He blinked in surprised and glanced around himself, seeing no sign of Victor in sight. He even poked his head back into the treeline to see if he could catch any last glances of Victor walking away, only to feel a gentle breeze caressing the flesh of his cheeks, pushing him away from the trees. He huffed and turned his back on the tree line grumpily. He hadn’t even been aware that they were this close to his house. How had Victor managed to lead him the entire way home without Yuuri noticing?

With a put upon sigh, he resigned himself to giving up for the day, but tomorrow, Yuuri would be darting into the trees and seeking out Victor bright and early. He nodded to himself and began heading up the tiny hill towards his house, excitement still buzzing in his chest. He glanced over his shoulder, once more, just to make sure that Victor really wasn’t there, and chuckled at the irritated rustling of the trees that that earned him. To think that the God of the Forest was bending the trees for  _ him _ . Even if it was just to scold him. He walked the rest of the way to his house with a smile spread across his face that not even Victor, himself, could have blown away.

  
“ _ Yuuri, where on earth are your shoes _ ?” His mother complained as Yuuri drifted into the house completely unaware that he hadn’t bothered to collect his shoes from the base of the tree in his excitement. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey its ya girl coming at you with another chapter

Every move that Victor made in the forest was slow and purposeful, the movements of someone completely confident in their every step. Yuuri was mesmerized just watching him. Yuuri had grown up cradled in the confines of this forest and yet even he could not move with the calm grace that Victor exuded. The snap of a twig or the crunch of a single dead leaf under his feet could make him drop low to the ground, ready to spring with a sort of wild joy glimmering in his eyes and made Yuuri’s blood pound. Even the smallest of creatures, small enough to fill a thimble, would not escape his hunter’s gaze. The scurrying of a squirrel up a tree snapped his attention to the air, nostrils flaring and starlight hair flying. 

Yuuri was in shocked awe, unable to tear his eyes away from the vision he made. It was exciting. Watching the god of the forest become, well, a  _ god _ . A god who displayed complete mastery of his domain. The trees bowed in his wake and the river made way for him. The wind blew only where he allowed it to and the ground parted for the flowers that sprang up in his wake, eventually withering as Victor’s steps carried on, as if they could not sustain their life without him. Even the constant chatter of the leaves crunching and the animals scurrying grew quiet as Victor picked his way through the dense forest with Yuuri hot on his trail. 

It made the blood in Yuuri’s veins surge in excitement and his heart beat a quiet staccato against his chest. Drew excited whoops and shouts from him. Eventually, Yuuri could no longer keep his tongue in check and he hurried to stand in front of Victor, nearly bouncing in excitement. 

“What are we going to do today?” Yuuri asked, eagerness bubbling in his voice and toes wiggling in anticipation. If he had a tail, it would have been wagging.   
  
Victor smiled, flowers blooming at his hairline and eyes glittering far more than they should have been able to. Yuuri worried for a second that his heart was going to fall out of his chest from how harshly it was beating. “I’m going to teach you about mushrooms.”  
  
Yuuri groaned, disappointed. “Is that all?” He couldn’t help but wonder if Victor was simply toying with him. “When are we going to...I don’t know...do something more exciting?” He huffed, crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you sure you’re a god?” 

Victor stared at him in mock offense, brows pinched and lips tugged downward in false betrayal. “Yuuri!” He gasped. “Mushrooms  _ are _ exciting!”   
  


Yuuri kicked at a particularly large clump of dirt petulantly, wincing as a twig got stuck between his toes, digging into the callused skin. “We’ll see about that.” 

Victor watched him in silence for a moment or two, lips thinned in thought, before speaking once more. “Tell me Yuuri of Hasetsu, why is it that you always abandon your shoes at the edge of my forest?” He pointed down at Yuuri’s dirty feet. “Wouldn’t it be better to have shoes on?” 

Yuuri huffed and if anyone were to ask, he would steadfastly deny that he was pouting. “Just Yuuri is fine, you know…” he turned his eyes down to his toes, watching them sink into the soft mud. 

Victor grinned wickedly in response, feigned confusion lining the rest of his face. “But you made such a fuss yesterday about making sure I  _ knew _ that you were  _ Yuuri of Hasetsu _ …” a pause “And you didn’t answer my question.” 

Yuuri shook his head, messy hair tossing with the movement. “It was an  _ intimidation tactic _ , obviously.” He wiggled his toes in the mud unconsciously. “And I like to feel the forest. I don’t want anything inbetween my feet and the ground.” He gestured about himself to the rustling tree canopy. “If I have my shoes on, I can’t feel the vibrations or tell how wet the dirt is…” 

Victor’s smile softened, somewhat, in response, eyes warm. “And that is how I know that you are teachable.” And with that, he quickened his pace, leaving Yuuri gaping behind him. 

“Hey, what is that supposed to mean?” Yuuri called, rushing after Victor. 

“It means that you listen to the forest. And I’m going to teach you how to  _ understand _ it.” Victor offered, glancing over his shoulder, curtain of silver hair hanging heavy over his shoulder. 

Yuuri’s shoulders slumped. “And you intend to do this with  _ mushrooms _ ?”

Victor nodded. “With mushrooms.” A pause. “You’ll see. Now, come along.” 

And, surprisingly, Yuuri  _ did _ . 

Yuuri had been hunting mushrooms in this forest since he was old enough to walk. It was only one of many ways that his people sustained their village. He had been taught since he was small to look for the tiny puffballs sprouting from the ground, to pull them open and inspect them for spots of green or brown. To keep his eyes peeled on the edges of the tree line because that’s where they liked to grow best, in big patches that were easy to overlook. 

But Victor knew much more about the mushrooms growing in the forest than Yuuri or anyone in Hasetsu could have imagined. He hunted quickly and without preamble, leading Yuuri to patches of moss which housed caps bigger than Yuuri’s fist, pale caps with light brown tops that Yuuri would have never spotted on his own. He showed Yuuri that they grew near the large orange, spotted mushrooms that Yuuri had always been taught to avoid. 

“Ah, perfect!” Victor chimed, kneeling beside the pale caps and gesturing for Yuuri to join him. “These are quite lovely.”

“I would have left any mushroom growing near a poisoned one alone…” Yuuri admitted, watching as Victor sorted his way through a patch of orange caps. 

Victor glanced over his shoulder at Yuuri, smiling. “Ah, but this is what I’m trying to teach you. You must not think that you and your people have learned all there is to learn of the forest and that there is nothing more for it to offer. You must start to  _ listen _ to what the forest has been trying to tell you.” He revealed the massive white cap he had harvested, pale fingers working quickly over the cap as he gestured for Yuuri to observe. “Look, no bulb!” He pierced the spongy flesh beneath the cap with the tip of Yuuri’s knife. The mushroom didn’t turn blue. “This one is safe to eat!” 

“Incredible!” Yuuri grinned, eyes wide as they traced Victor’s deft hands pulling up more mushrooms. 

Victor’s excitement was so palpable that Yuuri found himself returning his glee, hands buzzing with barely contained energy. What else could Victor teach him about the forest that he would never learn on his own? If Victor knew this much about  _ mushrooms _ , then what larger secrets could Yuuri discover? He wanted to know them all. Wanted to know every inch of this forest. 

And the rest of the day continued much in a similar manner. Victor nearly glided through the forest, all silver hair and glittering eyes as he pointed out mushroom after mushroom that Yuuri would have never thought would have a use. Victor hardly paused to think about where the mushrooms may be hiding, guiding Yuuri to large patches with little thought as though he just knew where they were, though their locations seemed arbitrary. Yuuri uselessly tried to map them in his head, but he couldn’t keep up with Victor’s excitable attitude, the god practically buzzing at every new discovery. 

“This one can be brewed into a medicine that fights stomach infection.” Victor announced, gesturing to a round cap at the root of a tree that Yuuri would have thought was poisoned, pointing out how the slanted cap distinguished it.

“This one only grows very deep in the forest, but it could feed a family.” Victor lectured, tugging an enormous orange mushroom free from the earth while ignoring the otherwise tainted patch of white caps tinged in mold. 

“These grow in groups, so only take the older ones and you can keep returning to the patch.” Victor instructed as Yuuri tugged the ruffled, yellow cap free from the ground. “But they only grow on the ground. Don’t take any from the trees.” 

It was incredible, really, that Yuuri had had the nerve to assume there was nothing else to learn from the forest. Victor had managed to prove in a single afternoon that, not only was that assumption horribly false, but that Yuuri and the entirety of Hasetsu had only just scratched the surface of what the forest had to offer. 

By the end of the day, with a bag bursting with enough mushrooms to feed his family for days, Victor was leading Yuuri to the more familiar parts of the forest, and before he could muster up a protest, Victor was standing him before the tree where he had abandoned his shoes just that morning. 

“I can’t go home, yet!” Yuuri protested, voice nearly a whine. “We were just getting started!”

Victor merely smiled and patted at Yuuri’s cheek. Like an indulgent parent. “We will start again whenever you wish, just call for me and I will come to you, no matter where you are.” He glanced upward, observing the rapidly darkening sky. “Now, Yuuri of Hasetsu, I do believe your mother will be looking for you.” 

Yuuri flushed in embarrassment and hesitantly tugged his shoes on. He would just return early in the morning, it was simple. However, the excitement of discovery was still buzzing in his veins and he could hardly stand the thought of having to wait for the sun to rise, again. “Tomorrow, then?” 

Victor nodded, smiling softly. “Tomorrow.” 

And then, the hand on his cheek was moving to his chin, tugging him forward. And then, Victor’s forehead was pressed against his and he was looking into those sea glass eyes, silver hair falling about them in a curtain and all Yuuri could see was the poorly suppressed excitement burning in Victor’s eyes, as well. There were soft blue flowers blooming at the edges of Victor’s hair and Yuuri tried to stop his hand from reaching out to touch them, but his hand was moving of its own accord, fingering the delicate edges of the irises with the very tips of his fingers. Victor’s breath, cold as a winter breeze, blew gently across Yuuri’s skin with every breath and he was so damnably  _ beautiful  _ that Yuuri couldn’t help but to feel horribly inadequate in comparison. Why was Victor bothering with  _ him _ ? 

Yuuri blinked. He hadn’t really meant to, but Victor was so  _ close  _ that Yuuri needed to close his eyes for a minute and breathe. But by the time he had mustered the courage to open his eyes again, Victor was gone, like Yuuri had simply blinked him out of existence. His cheeks were burning and his heart was making a valiant effort to punch a hole through his chest, but he could still feel the cool press of Victor’s fingers on his face. And impossibly, the memory of those cold fingers only made his own skin heat in response. 

He stood there for quite some time, afterwards. Breathing slowly and trying to calm the adrenaline buzzing through his veins. Yuuri couldn’t remember the last time he had been so excited about something in his life. Suddenly, the forest was a whole new world. Suddenly, Yuuri had a friend who was just as excited to explore it as he was. Victor wasn’t like Takeshi or Yuuko, who knew the forest, as well, but couldn’t waste away hours in its depths like Yuuri could. 

With a happy shout, Yuuri finally turned and hurried through the tree line, heavy bag swinging as he ran. His mother would surely be worried and Yuuri could hardly wait to show her everything Victor had helped him forage. With a strong breeze on his back and his hair whipping against his face, he broke through the trees with one final cry, grinning wildly as it seemingly echoed back to him. 

\---

The next day, Yuuri was up before the sun, bag slung over his shoulder and knife in hand before his mother could even attempt to slow his gait. However, once he was standing just outside the massive iron spring that wrapped around the back end of Yuuri’s home, the piercing sound of war cries broke through the air. He blinked as the noise broke through the quiet bubble of the spring, fists clenched at his side. Before he could really register what he was doing, he was flying towards to the noise, shoed feet pounding through the soft grass as the wind nipped at his skin and drew tears to his eyes.

“ _ Mari _ !” Yuuri called as he made it to the leftmost field in the village, wide grin splitting his face. “Isn’t it a little early for sparring?” 

His sister offered him a single, withering look before she straightened from the crouched pose that she had maintained, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Across from her, Yuuko straightened, as well, smiling easily over to Yuuri and waving. 

“ _ Most _ people would consider this a  _ perfect  _ time to spar, actually.” A voice called from the distance, the weight of her disapproval falling heavily upon Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri winced and ducked his head, willing his cheeks to not darken in shame. 

Minako. Daughter of Haruka and Aiko. The strongest warrior that Hasetsu had to offer. A master of their peculiar fighting style. By the time she was Yuuri’s age, she had become known as Swift Foot for how quickly she moved in battle, long knife an extension of her arm. Now, with many of the nearby villages abandoning the old ways, Hasetsu had been left in a relative time of peace and Minako had taken up instructing the younger villagers in the sprawling steps and aggressive jabs that had once marked Hasetsu as a village to treat with caution. 

And now, with Minako standing before Yuuri with arms crossed and brow twitching in irritation, Yuuri could understand why. 

Yuuri carefully arranged his stance into something respectively demure and ducked his head in her direction. “A-Ah...It would appear so.”

Mari huffed in irritation while Yuuko laughed quietly. Minako, however, would not be so easily pacified. “I haven’t seen you spar in  _ weeks _ , Yuuri.” She sighed. “You’re such a gifted fighter, too. You were always so quick to pick up on instruction.” 

Yuuri bit down on the staunch disagreement that fought to stumble from his tongue. He was, in fact,  _ not _ a gifted fighter, and that was the entire problem. He was quite skilled at mimicking steps. Even better at moving quickly. But, though Yuuri could copy stances and thrust his knife like he had been born to do it, he was not a skilled  _ fighter _ . 

Even now, with Minako staring down at him from the tip of her sloped nose, Yuuri found himself wanting to disappear rather than widen his stance and buck against her aggression. Yuuri had never been particularly suited to Hasetsu’s aggressive fighting style. He was too hesitant. Took too long to gather courage and strength. He wasn’t like Mari or Minako or even gentle Yuuko who all walked with sure steps and lifted chin. They had never had to remind themselves to remain true. 

Minako seemed to sense the self depreciation in Yuuri’s body language, so she thankfully let the issue drop, returning her attention to Yuuko and Mari who were both nearly buzzing with poorly contained energy. The draw of the fight they were waiting for Minako to call was palpable in the air. 

She sighed and gently patted at Yuuri’s cheek before turning back to the two women. “Again!” Minako cried, lifting an arm in the air to gesture that the two women should resume their battle stances. Yuuri watched with near morbid fascination as the calm of the fight settled over their faces, swiping their expressions free of any hesitance of any indication of where they may strike. Their knees were bent carefully, ready to launch themselves, and their arms were lifted, shoulders loose and eyes focused. Though Yuuri had never managed to maintain that look, that careful blank expression that spoke of both surety and strength in battle, he had always thought that the tense moment before a controlled strike was beautiful. 

“And, go!” Minako announced, allowing her arm to drop. Nearly the moment that her arm had lowered, the women were launching at each other, fingers grasping for the belts they wore strapped across their chests for grappling purposes and feet ghosting across the ground in speed. Yuuri watched, transfixed, as Yuuko, thought much shorter, gripped the thick belt across Mari’s chest with steady hands and yanked her forward, foot sweeping behind a knee to force it to the ground with an echoing cry.

Mari wasn’t on the ground for long, kicking off and grabbing for Yuuko’s belt. And then the two women were locked in a battle of strength, muscles flexing in their arms and legs steady. Their teeth were gritted and her eyes were burning, the calm moment from before nearly abandoned as they yanked at each other. Yuuri could see, in that moment, watching the fire burn in their eyes and the iron strength of their grip, why Hasetsu had the reputation that it did. 

And then, it was over in mere seconds as Mari used her height to yank Yuuko clear from the ground and slam her down, back flat against the dusty ground and eyes wide open in shock. She sputtered and rolled to her knees, brows furrowed. “Mari! That isn’t fair!” She cried, eyes betrayed. 

Mari snorted. “Yeah, well, get taller and it will be.” Her pose was carefully casual, hip cocked and brow raised, daring Yuuko to contest her win. However, Yuuri could see from the tense line of her shoulders that she was waiting for feedback from Minako. 

“Yuuko, you know as well as I do that there is no such thing as ‘fair’ in a battle. You must use every opportunity that you have. If you had used  _ your _ height to your advantage and stayed close to the ground, the victory would have been yours.” Minako eventually decided, ignoring Yuuko’s offended sputtering. 

Yuuri grinned at her pout and moved to help her stand, but was stopped by Minako. “She must stand with her own strength, even in a spar.” Minako scolded and Yuuri winced in response, offering Yuuko an apologetic look as she dragged herself to her feet. 

A moment later, she was shifting her feet into a widened stance, eyes cool as steel. Minako nodded in approval and was ready to motion for them to begin, again, but leveled Yuuri with a look when he made no move to hurry on his way. Mari, noticing Minako’s hesitance, shooed Yuuri with a lazy hand. “Don’t you have a forest to run in, Yuuri?” 

Yuuri blinked in surprise before a wide smile overtook his face and he nodded, raising a hand in farewell and taking off for the treeline, the wind ringing with the faint noise of the spar behind him.

It had been too long since the last time he had sparred with Minako. It used to be a way for Yuuri to release all of his pent up energy. And even now, watching Yuuko and Mari sent an excited shiver down his spine that begged him to go back and join the fight. The Yuuri from weeks ago might have. But lately, Yuuri was beginning to come to terms with just how ill suited he was to Hasetsu’s fighting style. He always hesitated. Always took too long to decide on a strike. Was too easy to read. He used to win his spars all the time, back when he had been the tallest child in his age group, but now that Takeshi had sprouted up seemingly overnight and Yuuko had begun to use her ferocious spirit to her advantage, Yuuri found himself more frequently outclassed and outmatched. 

He forced the thoughts from his mind, but they were still stubbornly present when he was kicking off his shoes and darting towards the river. Still there even when Victor appeared before him, long hair draped over a shoulder and tunic billowing in the gentle breeze that rustled the canopy of leaves above them. 

“Hmm…” Victor hummed, fingers pressed to his lips. “I had thought that you would arrive much sooner.” His smile was positively delighted though his words were cold. “I don’t think I’ve ever had to wait so long for something in my life!” 

Yuuri fought the urge to ducked his head in embarrassment, though he could feel his cheeks flooding with warmth. “I was watching a spar. I must have lost track of time.”

Victor grinned, lips pulled into a pretty smile. “Ah, yes. Your people  _ do _ enjoy fighting with those silly belts, don’t they?”

And though Yuuri had a strong feeling that Victor was only saying that to rile him up, he still fell for it, widening his stance and puffing his chest out with learned pride. “The fighting style of Hasetsu has been passed down for  _ generations _ . It’s been around almost as long as--”

Victor cut him off with a handwave. “Yes, yes, I know. ‘It’s been around for almost as long as the village of Hasetsu has existed,’” His smile was equal parts mocking and amused. 

Yuuri huffed and fought the urge to stamp a single foot on the mossy ground. “It’s true!” 

Victor nodded indulgently. “I’m well aware. I’m not your patron god for  _ nothing _ , forest-runner.” 

Yuuri’s cheeks flushed and he cursed his skin for its quick ability to show his emotions. The fighting style that Hasetsu was known for, the quick jabs and bold faced brutality, was a rather sore spot for him. Minako’s words were ringing in his eyes, still. She had called him a gifted fighter. But he wasn’t. Wouldn’t ever be. It wasn’t due to a lack of precision, or even a lack of strength. It was simply that Yuuri didn’t  _ think _ that way. He lacked the confidence that the style required. The way the attacker had to stand, feet spread and shoulders pulled back with confidence. The way a person had to be confident in their body and its ability to overpower the enemy. 

Yuuri was a good student, but you couldn’t teach someone how to be a warrior. Warriors are born that way. 

“Interesting…” Victor’s musing drew Yuuri from his thoughts, “ _ Very  _ interesting.”

Yuuri blinked and fought the urge to duck his head in embarrassment. He hadn’t realized that he had so thoroughly gotten tangled in his own thoughts. He cleared his throat and willed the embarrassed flush from his cheeks. “What’s so interesting?” 

Victor tapped his chin. “Tell me, do you enjoy the way your villagers fight?” 

Yuuri blinked in confusion and babbled out the same memorized speech that had been instilled in him from an early age. “Hasetsu’s fighting style utilizes strength and speed in order to--” 

“Yes, yes, I  _ know  _ that,” Victor interjected. “But do you  _ enjoy _ fighting that way? Does it suit you?” 

For a while, Yuuri didn’t dare to speak, afraid to admit such a weakness. He was proud to be from Hasetsu. He loved Hasetsu. But he wasn’t like the others. Not really. He had been born on the banks of the river that ran through the forest, and as a result, his nature was gentle and calm. None of the fire and iron that filled his sister, Mari. Or even his parents. Yuuri was different. Had always been different. Was that a bad thing? Was he broken? Did the others in his village wonder why he was the way he was? Did they pity him? 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a gentle tugging on his chin, Victor’s thin fingers urging Yuuri to raise his eyes from where they had unconsciously drifted downwards, tracing the lines of his toes. He blinked, trying to reorient himself before Victor could realize the spiral he had so unhesitatingly flung himself into. 

“It’s okay, Yuuri…” Victor murmured, brows furrowed delicately and long hair brushing the heated edges of Yuuri’s cheeks. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” 

Yuuri swallowed thickly and shook his head. “N-No...It’s okay…” He paused, gaze desperately wanting to drop to the dirt, once more, but Victor’s searching stare kept it firmly in place. “It’s a little difficult to talk about…” A pause to gather strength. “So much about me is different. I don’t enjoy our traditional fighting style. I don’t enjoy the hunt. I don’t enjoy tending to the springs…I just want to run in the forest. That’s all. That’s what I enjoy.” 

Victor hummed in thought, lips curling into a soft little smile that made Yuuri’s blood sing. “That’s alright, you know…? It’s okay to like other things.” 

Yuuri shook his head. “Not in Hasetsu.” And when Victor’s brows furrowed, once more. “It’s just...There are no other ways in Hasetsu. If you can’t fight like my people fight, you just don’t fight. There are no other instructors or ways of doing it.” 

Victor’s smile suddenly grew much larger. “What if I could teach you? How to fight?” His face loomed impossibly more close and Yuuri’s cheeks grew much more red in response. 

Yuuri sputtered and waved his hands about, embarassed. “Y-you don’t have to do that! It’s fine!” 

Victor was nearly bouncing in excitement. “Oh, how marvelous! Yuuri, this is going to be so much  _ fun _ !”

Yuuri’s shoulders slumped and he sighed heavily. “It’s  _ fighting _ , Victor. It’s not supposed to be  _ fun _ …”

Victor seemed to pay him no mind, turning and walking away abruptly while babbling about all of the things that he was going to teach Yuuri. The flowers that sprouted in his wake were bright yellows and orange, burning as bright as the sun. Yuuri scrambled to catch up with him, the god barely managing to keep his pace at something resembling a casual human walk in his excitement. Yuuri should have tried to refuse Victor’s offer. Learning about the forest from Victor was one thing, something that could be used to benefit the whole of Hasetsu, but learning how to fight from a god just seemed...unfair. Too much for someone like Yuuri. It should have been Takeshi or Mari learning these things from Victor. They were skilled warriors, not hesitant or feeble like Yuuri. 

Regardless, Yuuri  _ didn’t _ try to stop Victor. Even though there was a small part of him that felt horribly unworthy, an even larger part of him was whooping and hollering in joy and excitement. The god of the forest, patron god of Hasetsu, was going to teach  _ him _ .  _ Yuuri _ ! 

And so, Yuuri didn’t stop Victor, merely followed quietly as the god picked his way through the dense trees, looking for some spot in particular that Yuuri hadn’t managed to figure out. Eventually though, Victor seemed to find what he was looking for as a tugged Yuuri through a patch of thick bushes and stopped once they were standing in the center of a large clearing that Yuuri had never seen before. 

“Where are we?” Yuuri asked, looking around in wonder. There were wildflowers dotting the tall grass around them, and he could hear the bubbling of the river in the distance. The grass made it difficult to pick up on any vibrations in the ground, but the softness felt nice on his tired feet after their journey there. 

Victor spun to face him, hair flying around him and arms wide. “Just south of Hasetsu!” He paused and brought a thoughtful finger to his chin. “I imagine you’ve never been here before...It’s quite out of the way.”

Yuuri nodded, eyes still tracing the unfamiliar trees and flowers. He almost asked Victor to hold off on lessons so that Yuuri would be allowed to explore this new terrain, but he bit his tongue before the words could tumble from his mouth. Victor seemed to have noticed, anyway, because he chuckled. 

“We’ll have plenty of time to explore before he head back to Hasetsu, Yuuri…”

Yuuri blinked, eyes turning back to where Victor was casually leaning against a tree, arms crossed over his chest and teasing grin firmly in place. Yuuri flushed, waving his hands in front of himself anxiously. “A-ah! I didn't mean to--”

“Yuuri!” Victor cut him off with a chuckle. “It’s okay. I like that about you.” 

Yuuri’s eyes widened and he sputtered in response, lips working soundlessly in surprise at Victor’s sudden declaration. 

“Now,” Victor began to move to the center of the clearing. “Shall we begin?” 

Yuuri nodded shyly and followed after him, stopping when they had enough distance between them for wide movements. Yuuri wasn’t particularly sure what Victor was about to teach him, but he guessed that it was be a similarly aggressive style as Hasetsu’s. 

However, rather than sinking into the wide, hunched back stance that Yuuri was used to, Victor spread his knees hip width apart and simply stared at Yuuri. Yuuri blinked and tilted his head in confusion. Was Victor not going to show him a demonstration? 

“Come on, then.” Victor commanded, eyes sharply tracing Yuuri’s movements as the human scrambled to put himself into something resembling a fighting pose. 

Victor seemed to just want to see what Yuuri was capable of so, hesitatingly, Yuuri sunk into Hasetsu’s starting pose, legs wide and arms raised before him and fingers bent inward towards his palms. He paused there, quickly trying to assess if this is what Victor had wanted, but the god gave no indication, face blank and eyes darting quickly over Yuuri’s form. 

With a sigh, Yuuri took a deep breath, attempting to summon the calm of battle though his mind was still working double time to try and figure out what Victor was doing. The god was obviously in a battle pose of some sort, so he must have intended to counter Yuuri’s strikes in some way. But then, why wasn’t he moving? His arms were still relaxed by his side and his shoulders were still loose. 

Before Yuuri could voice his confusion, however, Victor simply nodded at him and gestured for him to go ahead and attack. And hesitatingly, Yuuri did, legs shifting so that his body weight was thrown forward, arm shooting out to grapple for the belt that held Victor’s tunic flush against his waist. If Yuuri could get ahold of that belt, then he could throw Victor to the ground. Yuuri was slightly shorter than Victor, but Victor had a much more delicate frame, fine boned and tall. If Yuuri remembered to stay close to the ground, Victor wouldn’t be able to grapple for him without tilting himself off balance. Either way, Yuuri needed to get closer and reach that--

Oh. 

Before Yuuri could even think about grabbing Victor’s belt, Victor’s arms shot forward, cutting off Yuuri’s movements. His right hand slid just beside Yuuri’s curled right hand, fingers splayed and palm open, feeding Yuuri’s movements off center from where he had aimed. Yuuri gasped as Victor’s left hand then shot forward to grab Yuuri’s forearm in an iron tight grip, tugging it down towards the ground. Hurriedly, Yuuri shot his free arm forward in an attempt to counter Victor’s defensive move, but Victor blocked Yuuri’s attempted strike with his right forearm easily, his right forearm turning Yuuri’s left off center before crossing his left hand over to hold Yuuri’s forearm in a tight grip. However, before Yuuri could think of raising his other arm, once more, Victor’s right palm, fingers still splayed wide, turned and dropped down around Yuuri’s wrist, leaving his opposite hand free to dart forward, stopping just short of jabbing Yuuri in the neck. 

And what was more incredible, was the shining excitement on Victor’s face. The wild grin and flushed cheeks. In Hasetsu, the calm of battle was taught as the wiping of emotions from the face. The masking of oneself so that the enemy could never predict where one may strike. And yet Victor, who had taken Yuuri down so easily, had done none of those things. His face hadn’t gone startlingly blank and his movements had been soft as river water flowing over Yuuri’s skin, and yet, he had taken Yuuri down all the same. 

Yuuri stared, slack jawed as Victor’s thumb brushed gently against his jugular as a soft smile played at his lips. Victor had hardly moved from his relaxed pose, at all, his arms doing the brunt of the work, moving perfectly in sync. Yuuri turned his eyes down to where Victor was still gripping his left arm tightly, leaving him unable to return the strike. 

“Like this, see?” Victor grinned, tapping the side of Yuuri’s neck gently before releasing him. 

Yuuri shuddered and stepped back. “How did you do that? You moved so quickly!” He lifted a trembling hand to rub at the side of his neck where Victor had stopped just short of choking him. Yuuri was fast. Very fast. And yet, Victor had so effortlessly managed to stop him before he could even really get close. 

Victor frowned, lips tugged down in a slight pout. “I just showed you how I did it.” A pause. “Here, I will show you, once more. Prepare yourself.” 

Yuuri nodded hesitantly and backed up a few paces in order to sink into his stance, arms raised though this time, with much more hesitance. He would just have to aim much lower. His mistake had been in attempting to grab for something obvious. If he could get his arms low enough to grapple the edges of Victor’s leather knee pants, than Yuuri would have enough grip to drag the god to the ground. 

He darted forward, feet pounding against the ground as he shot towards Victor, the god still in that same relaxed pose from before. Yuuri’s knees bent low, prepared to reach out for Victor’s legs, but before Yuuri could get there, Victor suddenly dropped down low, right hand closed into a fist and blocking Yuuri’s right, throwing it off center like before. This time, however, Victor’s left hand crossed under Yuuri’s arm pushing the arm upwards until Victor could turn his left hand around and wrap it tightly around Yuuri’s wrist. He tugged Yuuri’s arm to the left, right arm coming down harshly on the crook of Yuuri’s elbow until the human had no choice but to fall to his knees, arm still held captive in Victor’s hands. 

Yuuri stared up at Victor, watching as the god merely grinned, eyes sparkling in absolute delight, bright yellow flowers blooming in the hair that spilled over his shoulder, tickling Yuuri’s nose. He was beautiful. And even though Yuuri’s arm was beginning to burn from where Victor still had it held tightly, Yuuri couldn’t help but to smile back, face warming and heart thrumming. 

Yuuri may or may not have fallen in love. 

“Like this, see?” Victor chuckled, finally releasing Yuuri.

Yuuri nodded slowly in response, dumbstruck. Yuuri had thought that Victor was beautiful, before. Of  _ course _ he had. But this was different. This was Victor with the calm of battle smoothed over his face. Victor moving confidently and without hesitation, plucking Yuuri out of the air as if he were a particularly stubborn fly. This was Victor smiling down at Yuuri, eyes twinkling as if he didn’t have Yuuri into a submission hold. 

Minako was fast. Was called Swift Foot in villages Yuuri had never even heard of. She was a master of Hasetsu’s aggressive strikes and unhesitatingly sharp movements. But this was different. Yuuri could practically feel his blood buzzing with excitement. He wanted to learn to move like Victor moved. Wanted to learn those same gentle movements. A fighting style that was defensive and calculating. Wanted to learn a battle calm that wasn’t wiped clean of emotion. 

Before he could stop himself, the words were tumbling from his lips, adrenaline burning through his veins. “Could you teach me that?” Yuuri asked, heart in his throat. “Could you teach me to fight that way?”

And Victor’s smile grew positively glorious in its beauty. 

“Of course.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note the rating change and added tags!

Weeks into Yuuri’s stolen away lessons in the heart of the forest, Yuuri felt something shift in the air around him. The feeling of cool wind blowing on his sun-heated skin felt different. The feeling of mud settling around his bare toes felt different. The feeling of his heart thrumming in his chest felt different. Everything, the very air he breathed, was  _ different _ . At first, he thought that perhaps it was that the way he moved had changed now that Victor had taught him to fight with patience and restraint. That his now gentle steps and graceful gait were what had made him feel so incredibly different. But that wasn’t quite right. It was something else. Something bubbling just under the surface if his skin and demanding voice. 

He was  _ happy _ .  _ Content _ . Full of  _ joy _ . And even more quietly, full of  _ love _ . And those feelings were ferocious in their intensity. Clawing at his throat and twisting about in his stomach, demanding that he let them out. That he smile just that much more. That his steps become just that much lighter. Victor had put them there. Victor had twisted him up so. And Yuuri was  _ glad _ for it. He wanted  _ more _ . 

But that wasn’t all. There was something else lurking beneath. Darker thoughts that lingered in the quietest parts of him mind. Thoughts like  _ how dare you demand a god keep you company _ and  _ what will you do when this ends? _ He steadfastly ignored those thoughts. Filled his lungs with all the air he could and held it in, waiting until the thoughts were drowned out by a buzzing in his ear before letting it out, once more. 

“Yuuri? What is it that you’re doing, standing there so silently?” The voice shocked Yuuri out of his trance, causing him to let loose all the air he had held in one fell swoop. Yuuri whirled around, face flushing, and narrowed his eyes at Victor. 

“Victor! You know I can’t hear you when you’re creeping about so quietly!” Yuuri grumbled, willing his heart to steady itself in his chest. 

Victor grinned, entirely unashamed, and tapped his lower lip with a single finger. “You know, if you had been paying attention to the forest like I keep trying to teach you, I wouldn’t have been able to sneak up on you, at all.” 

Yuuri begrudgingly conceded the point, cheeks still burning with heat, and turned his attention to what Victor held in his hands. “Why have you got all that netting with you?” 

Victor blinked and glanced at his hands, as if he, too, had forgotten what they held, and then turned back to Yuuri, smile growing that much wider. “Ah, I have decided to teach you how to properly capture fish!”

Yuuri blinked. And when it occurred to him that Victor was insuating that Yuuri did  _ not  _ know how to properly capture fish, he found himself automatically planting his feet and puffing out his chest. “I am Yuuri of Hasetsu! I was  _ born _ on the banks of the river! The river is a part of me--”

Victor smoothly interrupted, smile still wide. “Yes, yes, I know ‘ _ and I am part of the river _ ,’ now come, Yuuri, I’ll show you how incorrect you are!”

Yuuri winced, still not entirely accustomed to Victor’s blunt manner of speaking, before sighed heavily. He should know better than to argue with Victor, by now. More often than not, Victor has shown Yuuri new ways of looking at the forest that Yuuri would have never figured out by himself. If Victor was saying that Yuuri didn’t know how to fish properly, it was probably because he didn’t, as much as the admission irritated him. 

Without another word, Victor turned and began marching towards the river at that nearly inhuman speed which gave away his excitement. Yuuri couldn’t help but to grin at the sight, hurrying to catch up. When Victor was like this, bubbling with excitement and smiling without restraint, Yuuri couldn’t help but to feel fond of him.  To the people in Hasetsu who worshipped him, he was The God of the Forest, but when he was like this, he was just Victor.  

A quiet voice whispers:  _ My Victor _ . 

The thought came so suddenly to him that he slowed to a stop, heart thrumming faster than a rabbit’s and blood filling his cheeks and ears. How  _ dare _ he harbor such thoughts for Victor. A  _ god _ . What  _ hubris _ . Yuuri wasn’t even a particularly interesting human. He was not full of fire and iron like Mari. He was not a sharpened blade like Yuuko. He was boring. Dulled metal. He had been born on the banks of the river, and because of it, his nature was slow and gentle. Victor could never--

“Yuuri?” Victor whispered quietly, suddenly standing right in front of Yuuri, silver hair twisting ever so slightly in the gentle breeze. “Come back to me, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri blinked and came back to himself all at once, taking note of the slight quiver of his hands and the sweat beading his temple. He glanced up at Victor and found the god’s face pinched in concern. Forcing a smile, Yuuri took a step back, nodding towards the slight gap in the trees where he could just see the bubbling waters of the river. 

“Well? Aren’t you going to teach me how to properly fish?” Yuuri asked, voice a teasing lilt even as his heart still struggled for some sense of stability. 

Victor blinked, brows still furrowed. “A-Ah. Yes. Well, then. Follow me.” 

And when they reached the river bank, Yuuri blinked as Victor stepped into the river, without care for his leather knee breeches, and began digging into the dirt below the water, shifting it away until he had a deep hole into which, he placed the net, anchoring it with some heavy stones. 

When he was satisfied with his trench, Victor stood, grinning, and made his way back to the river bank, seating himself next to where Yuuri stood and gesturing for him to sit, as well. 

“And now we wait!” Victor announced cheerily, clapping his hands together. There was lavender blooming at his temple. 

Yuuri sunk to the ground beside him, staring at the spot in the river where Victor had left the net, confused. He had never tried to fish like this before. He had always been taught to throw the net in and pull it back just as quickly. He should have known that Victor’s method involved more patience. Like everything he did. 

And so they sat like that, watching the river bubble by and speaking of inconsequential things. Victor asked Yuuri what his favorite color was and when Yuuri responded with the color of the sky, Victor launched into a discussion of the different shades of blue that the sky could hold. It was easy, and it was mindless, and Yuuri could feel those warm feelings bubbling up in him like before. And he thought that made he should smother them before they could spark and catch fire on his heart, but Yuuri had never been particularly good at restraint. 

“And so, if your favorite color the midday sky, or the sky at dawn?” Victor asked, eyes sparkling with joy and temple ringed with a multitude of wild flowers. 

Yuuri smiled back at him, shrugging. “I’m quite fond of both. I couldn’t possibly choose.” He glanced back out at the river, eyes tracing the way the water teased at dry land. Pushing and pulling. “Though I am quite partial to the color of the river, as well.” 

Victor turned to look out at the river, too, smile taking a more gentle turn. “Ah, I see. That is rather fitting, isn’t it? You and this river are one in the same.” 

Yuuri shook his head, bending his knees and wrapping them with his arms. “In some ways. But I am not as gentle as the river. I am not as calm or as unchanging.” 

“And that is where you are wrong, Yuuri. The river is much more than that. The river changes every second. Pulling in new water and pushing out the old. It never pauses, crashing in the banks and pouring down stream with unrelenting strength. The river  _ is _ patient, but it is not always calm. It is not always gentle. The river is stubborn and sure” Victor turned his eyes back to Yuuri. “In those ways, you and the river are the same.” 

Yuuri hid his smile in his knees, though he was sure that Victor could see how red his ears were. However, before Yuuri could fret much over how to respond to such a heaping compliment, Victor suddenly stood. 

“Ah, yes. Our fish are ready!”    
  
And then, he was wading into the river towards the trench he had dug. Yuuri hadn’t even realized that so much time had passed. He hurried to stand and watched as Victor unearthed the net, shifting the large stones out of the way before hefting the net above water. 

Unbelievably, the net held several fish. Not just one or two, but six or seven. Yuuri stared in amazement. He had never managed to to catch so many in one go. He realized suddenly that Victor had dug that trench so that the fish would simply swim right into the net. It was incredible that no one in Hasetsu had never thought to do such a thing. 

Yuuri whooped in excitement and Victor preened under the attention, silver hair almost glittering in the sunlight and hair dotted with flowers and he was so  _ beautiful _ and Yuuri was so  _ weak _ that before he could stop him, he was in the water. And then he was running towards Victor, arms extended. And then he was wrapping his arms around Victor’s neck. And then Victor’s arms were around his waist. 

And then, Yuuri was pressing his lips against Victor’s. 

He wasn’t sure why he had done it. Only that suddenly, it was as if he hadn’t had control over his own body. As if his feelings swelling in his heart had reaching out and moved his limbs just so. It was only a moment or two into the kiss that Yuuri came back to himself, ripping himself away from Victor and stumbling back, eyes wide and fingers trembling. 

And Victor stood there silently, his face somehow flushed with just the slightest hints of pink. His long fingers trembled as they traced his lips and his eyes were widened with shock. And at the sight of Victor’s shock, Yuuri felt crushing shame. How could he have dared? Would Victor revoke his protection of Hasetsu simply because of Yuuri’s own foolishness? Had he doomed his village?    
  


He didn’t stop to ask. He threw himself away from Victor and before the god could reach out to him, Yuuri had turned and was running back into the forest. His bare feet slammed on the ground as he tore through the trees, unseeing, and his eyes were growing suspiciously wet in the wake of his shame. The further he ran, the more his knees seemed to grow weak and the lump in his throat made it difficult to breathe. Finally, when he felt that he could go no more, Yuuri fell against the side of an ancient tree, tucking himself against the base of its wide trunk. He hoped that Victor wouldn’t try to find him. Hoped that he would be left to tend to his wounds on his own. 

How could he have been so stupid? To think that he had let his own feeble human emotions act so unthinkingly. What had he thought would happen? That Victor would kiss him back? Love him back?

And it was then that he realized that love wasn’t the warm, soft feeling that he had been fooled into believing it was. Love was an awful, terrible feeling. A monster that curled up deep in his belly and clawed its way up his throat, tearing him up on the inside until he wasn’t sure where he ended and where Victor began. Left him mangled into a terrible abomination of parts that couldn’t function independently, anymore. He wanted Victor to swallow him whole. To chew him up and swallow every part of him until he didn’t have to be away from him, ever again. 

A twig snapped just behind him, and Yuuri knew that Victor had found him. He should have known better than to think that Victor would have just left him. Victor is too kind for that. Yuuri gathers his strength and stands, feet planted and shoulders broad. Prepared to accept a blow. Victor looked at him quietly, observing. They stood like that for some time, silently watching each other. 

Finally, Victor spoke. “It’s okay, you know. You can ask.”

He felt hollow. So thoroughly carved from the inside out that there was nothing left but empty spaces for Victor to fill. And it was horrible, painful, dreadful, and it was love. And what was worst was that Victor  _ knew _ . He looked right through Yuuri and pulled out everything that Yuuri tried so desperately to hide. And because Yuuri felt that he had nothing to lose by asking, he did. 

“I think…” he stuttered because his heart demanded it. There was nothing else he could do to stop the stillborn trembles in his hand. “I think that I want to kiss you…”

Victor’s head tilted, a quick, birdlike movement that warmed Yuuri from the inside out, flayed his veins wide open and exposed his sticky beating heart. “Would you like that? Would that make you happy?” 

Yuuri’s eyes traced the line of Victor’s impossibly silver hair as it tumbled over a thin shoulder, lips dry and chapped and undeserving but wanting so desperately to press against Victor’s. Wanting so desperately to take something from him that Yuuri could keep for forever. “Y-Yeah...I...I think so…”

Victor smiled, lips thinning into a single curved line. Somehow, he seemed far away. Closed off. Eyes the color of polluted pond water rather than polished sea glass. Somehow, he looked even less human than usual and where Yuuri should have been frightened, he instead leaned forward, body moving unconsciously towards Victor like a moth to flame. “Then I suppose I shall have to let you. You do know how I enjoy making my followers happy.”

And Yuuri flinched away from him, as though the words had gutted him. He wished he could turn back time and swallow the words that had put that look on Victor’s face, the one that said Yuuri was not the first nor anywhere near the last person to want to keep Victor, but it was too late and the words hung in the air like thick fog. “If you don’t want to...Then that’s okay. I don’t want to if you don’t want to. I just want you.” Please let that be okay. Please let Victor understand what Yuuri was fumbling to say.

Victor’s face melted from its cool expression all at once and Yuuri felt as though that single dimpled smile was a life line being thrown to him where was so thoroughly drowning. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears and he felt blood rushing to his cheeks and he wanted to fall to his knees and thank the gods that Victor hadn’t been disgusted by Yuuri’s terrible, human  _ want _ . 

And then, Victor was moving towards him, star-spun hair heavy on his shoulders and movements wraith-like in their fluidity. Before Yuuri could gather the sense of mind to step back, Victor was suddenly  _ there _ , thumb pressed to Yuuri’s bottom lip and pulling down as if he wanted to inspect what Yuuri had to offer. As if he were clinically examining Yuuri and found him lacking. And Yuuri was lacking. Failed in so many ways and was so despicably human. And yet, he wanted Victor. Wanted every part of Victor. And it was selfish, to want to keep Victor to himself so desperately, but he couldn’t stop them from creeping up his throat and turning his lips into a gentle smile. 

“And what about when you longer want me?” Victor smiled, voice quiet and soft. Indulgent. 

Yuuri’s brow furrowed in confusion, brain sticky and slow as it attempted to process what Victor was saying, difficult as it was with Victor standing so close. Close enough that every breath Yuuri took felt like breathing him in. But somehow, the words made their way to him and the weight of Victor’s question, guised in gentle touches and soft expressions, fell upon his shoulders like iron weights. No longer want him? How silly. Yuuri would always want Victor. Would want Victor until the day he died. Would dedicate every breath to him. Would cut down millions for him. That was the extent of Yuuri’s love. Everreaching and unending. Forever. 

Yuuri’s bottom lip fought against Victor’s thumb, but he managed a mangled sentence, anyway. “I will always want you.  _ Always _ .”

Impossibly, Victor chuckled. Laughed as though he didn’t quite believe Yuuri. And then, he was leaning forward and brushing his lips against Yuuri’s chapped ones and Yuuri was so drunk on that single brush of lips and that he nearly laughed, as well. How silly of Victor to doubt the extent of Yuuri’s dedication to him. 

Victor pulled away from Yuuri’s mouth and Yuuri felt like a star dying, light fading rapidly and fire cooling into a single, heavy lump in his belly. His chin tilted forward without his permission, chasing that feeling for as long as he could before there was too much distance between the two of them for Yuuri to look anything but ridiculous. 

“Is that what you wanted, forest-runner?” Victor asked, voice soft in the silence that hung between them. His palm had fluttered down to cradle the side of Yuuri’s neck. 

Yuuri’s shaking hand traveled up to grip Victor’s wrist, holding his hand where it was. “I just want  _ you _ , Victor. That’s enough for me.”

Victor smiled, a tiny twist of his lips that looked more like a frown than anything else. “And what if I’m not sure how to do that? How to love you like you want to be loved.” 

Yuuri smiled and he hoped that it looked as warm as he felt on the inside. “That’s okay. I can love you enough for the both of us.” 

And that was true. The monster roaring in his belly, demanding that Yuuri get  _ closer _ take  _ more _ was vicious enough for the two of them. There were enough empty spaces inside of Yuuri that Victor didn’t need to concern himself with carving out places within himself for Yuuri fit. 

Victor leaned closer to him, pressed his lips to Yuuri’s burning ear. Whispered. “And what if I want to learn? What if I want you to teach me how to love you?” 

And it was so silly. The thought of  _ Yuuri _ teaching  _ Victor _ that Yuuri couldn’t help but to laugh joyously. “Then I will.” 

Victor smiled, lips stretching wide and hands moving to trace Yuuri’s cheek. “Tell me, Yuuri. Tell me what you want.”   
  


Yuuri swallowed thickly, heart loud in his ears. “I want  _ you _ .” And then he leaned across the small gap between them, stretched out like an endless void, and pressed his lips to Victor’s. And impossibly, Victor was kissing him  _ back _ , melting against him. 

Before Yuuri could stop himself, his fingers were buried in Victor’s long silver hair, tugging at the strands and urging Victor even closer until there wasn’t space enough for air between them. Victor pressed him against the ancient tree and the rough bark against Yuuri’s back was distraction for only a moment as Victor drew his hand up Yuuri’s thigh, coming to rest against his hip, thumb pressing against the sliver of exposed skin between tunic and breeches. Yuuri couldn’t help the whimper that was dragged out of him, pulling away from the kiss and tilting his head back against the tree. 

Victor was undeterred by the separation, pressing open mouthed kisses against Yuuri’s jaw, pausing after every one as if to check that Yuuri pleased, before moving to his ear, whispering so quietly that his voice was almost carried away by the breeze. “Is this what you want, my treasure, my forest-runner?” 

And Yuuri was helpless but to nod. The sudden intensity with which his body demanded that he touch Victor left no room for much else. The fingers in Victor’s hair descended to drag down the god’s back, clutching at wide shoulders. And the thumb that was still caressing his skin was moving so gently and slowly, like Yuuri’s skin was as delicate as gossamer, that Yuuri nearly trembled with the effort to restrain his hips from jerking forward to meet Victor’s. And though Victor had asked Yuuri to teach him, his hands moved with such familiarity as they shifted to palm over the tough leather of Yuuri’s knee breeches that it was almost as if Victor had always been touching him like this. As if he and Victor were simply two bodies acting as one, chasing after a type of pleasure that lingered just out of reach. 

Embarrassingly, Yuuri was already hard just from those teasing touches and the quiet whispers. However, he was not ashamed. He did not believe himself capable of shame in his desperation to be closer to Victor. And Victor seemed eager to give it to Yuuri, pushing down Yuuri’s breeches just enough to get his soft palm against Yuuri’s hard flesh. And Victor’s hands were so impossibly soft. As if he had never held a dagger before in his life. Not rough with work and wear like Yuuri’s. 

Yuuri reached down to try and urge Victor’s breeches down, as well, but Victor shook his head, pressing his lips against Yuuri’s ear once more. “Not this time, precious. You’re supposed to be teaching me, remember?” And then Victor’s hand was moving down below and Yuuri was lost to a moan of pleasure, the sound reverberating back to him in the empty forest. He could hardly spare a thought to wondering if they were close enough to the village for anyone to hear him and he didn’t think that he would care even if they did. The bark was rough against his back and his face was burning with heat, but the pleasure that Victor was giving him left no room for anything else to occupy his thoughts. 

Victor’s lips trailed across his jaw and collarbones, testing for every response and memorizing the spots that seemed to draw unrestrained whimpers out of Yuuri. His teeth and tongue teased at the skin so unrelentingly that Yuuri would be surprised if his neck wasn’t dotted with marks and bruises when it was all said and done. 

He imagined what it would be like to map out Victor’s body in a similar manner and shivered at the thought, hips jerking forward as Victor swiped a thumb over the tip, grinning against Yuuri’s temple. “Don’t hold back. Just let go.”

And Yuuri was helpless to do anything but listen, letting the pleasure wash over him all at once, loosening his muscles to much that he was powerless to stop the way he slumped against Victor, panting out broken noises as Victor stroked him through the bulk of it. 

When he came back to himself, Victor was cradling Yuuri’s head against his neck and brushing through Yuuri’s coarse hair. “Are you pleased, precious?” Victor whispered, as if afraid to break the spell that he had put Yuuri under. “Was it what you had hoped?” 

Victor’s voice was so earnest and searching that Yuuri felt his heart become impossibly more full. Yuuri could feel his world shifting. Tilting to rotate around Victor. Yuuri was so full of love for him that he knew Victor could crush him, if he wanted. Knew that Yuuri would probably let him. And though it was terrifying to think of. Though Yuuri was frightened by the intensity of his own feelings, it was still everything that he had hoped for. And so he nodded, dragged Victor closer for one more lingering kiss, and pulled back with sparkling eyes. 

“It was everything.”

\---

A few days later, Yuuri’s world shifted, once more. 

He woke to the sound of a terrible cry outside of his family home and the sound was so startling that Yuuri stumbled from his bed and dressed more quickly than he ever had before. By the time he made it outside, the majority of the village was already gathered around one spot in the treeline. Yuuri wondered if perhaps, someone had been injured while hunting the few boars that remained in the quickly cooling forest and hurried to get a closer look. 

It wasn’t difficult to elbow his way through the crowd, most of the villagers so stone still that Yuuri merely had to nudge them slightly to make his way through. But when he had reached the tight center of the circle, Yuuri wished that he hadn’t, coming to a stop just beside Yuuko’s frozen form. 

The body was bloated with water, rotten flesh clinging to yellow bones. Yuuri could tell that Yuuko wanted to look away, but this was the body of someone born of Hasetsu, so she didn’t allow herself to. Instead she drew her shoulders back, squared her jaw, and planted her feet alongside the rest of the villagers. 

There was silence. For once, silence in a village that otherwise rang with near constant noise. The chief parted the crowd like a river, moving forward to flip the corpse on its back in shocked calm. 

It was old man Ryuu. Yuuri knew him. Had  _ known _ him. He used to pat thick fingers on the coarse bush of Yuuri’s hair and wish him luck when he would run off to the forest. He used to sneak Yuuko and Yuuri and even Takeshi, who was such a stickler for the rules even as a child, bits of sweet bread, dripping with sticky honey. He had been the best fisherman in the village, could catch them with his bare hands, even. Yuuri would see him, sometimes, in the river that ran through the forest. He and Yuuri had understood each other in that way. In the way the river called to them and they way they longed for it, in return. His life had been uproarious and happy and unabrasive. A single spark in the burning flame that made Hasetsu what it was. 

And there he was, drying in the sun, bloated with the very same river water he had loved so much. 

Yuuri’s agony was immediate and unrelenting, throat turned dry and eyes turned wet. He cried loudly and without shame. Cried so horribly that those around him had no choice but to join in with his weeping, and yet still their feet were planted. Their mourning was so loud, like they always  _ always _ were, that Yuuri hoped that their voices would carry in the forest until it reached the ears of whoever had done this. Yuuri hoped that whoever they were, they understood that Hasetsu would remember this. That Hasetsu would carry this death deep within their marrow. 

“We  _ will _ find who has done this.” The chief promised darkly, eyes unashamedly wet and fists clenched. “They will pay for this with their blood.” 

And the crowd stomped their feet in agreement. Yuuko reached for Yuuri’s hand, fingers tangling without hesitation. Her palm was sweating and the angle made Yuuri’s wrist ache, but he refused to let go. Instead, he tightened his grasp, eyes still watching the rotting flesh of someone who had been as much a part of his family as anyone else in the village. He didn’t look away when they piled firewood around old man Ryuu. He didn’t look away when they set him aflame. 

Only when Yuuko had begun to drift to sleep, slumped against Yuuri on the ground where they had remained to watch Ryuu’s funeral pyre set aflame, did Yuuri allow the creeping numbness in his veins guide him to the forest. 

The motions were automatic, stopping by his empty home to drag a blanket and his bag from the cupboard, kicking his shoes off by the tree line, feeling seeing the forest with his feet first and then his tired eyes. But when he took off running, he was directionless and uncoordinated, not any bit the forest runner Victor had been molding him to be. 

And it only took the first recollection of Victor’s name for Yuuri’s thoughts to shift to an unrelenting constant mantra of the god’s name. He wasn’t looking for him, in particular, but he wanted to be near him, all the same. So with every mournful step that Yuuri took, he pleaded for Victor to appear. To make it better. To take the image of Ryuu (Ryuu who had loved the river like Yuuri loved the river.  _ Ryuu of Hasetsu _ .) out of his head. The image of a rotting corpse and bloated face. 

And as if Victor had heard Yuuri calling for him, he appeared, a silver beacon in an otherwise darkened forest. 

“Yuuri…” He murmured, voice low but clear in the quiet. “What has hurt you, my forest-runner.” He remained where he was, face pinched in concern, but arms at his side. Like he was confronting a frightened animal. Like Yuuri was one of the tiny boars they had tracked in the forest. 

Yuuri went to him all the same, face ugly again with tears and snot. “R-Ryuu...Old man R-Ryuu…” Yuuri whispered, voice high and horrified. “They found him. In the river.” 

And the lack of surprise of Victor’s face makes something hideously aware to him. He loved Victor. Cherished him. But Hasetsu would be a spot inside of Yuuri that always ached. And it ached right now.

“You knew.” Yuuri cried, face twisted painfully in his agony. “You  _ knew _ .”

“Yuuri…” Victor sighed, sound every bit his age. “I could not have intervened, you know that.” 

Yuuri’s toes dug angrily into the dirt. “You watched him  _ die _ . You  _ know who killed him _ !”

Victor’s eyes were pleading and he took only a single, hesitant step forward. “Yuuri, you must understand.” And Yuuri could see it on his face, his guilt. “I am the god of the  _ forest _ .  _ That _ is what I must protect.”

And Yuuri knew this. Of course he did. Victor was a nature deity. He was no god of wisdom or war or wrath. But Yuuri could feel the fires of anger burning at his skin, making it feel impossibly tight around his bones. Could remember Ryuu thrusting his hands into the river and pulling a fish out all in one, practiced movement and saying  _ see, Yuuri, the forest and I understand each other _ . And he felt anger at Victor because-- “My people have worshipped you for  _ centuries _ ! I thought we  _ understood _ each other! I thought we  _ protected _ each other!” 

It was only as Yuuri’s cheek was pressing against Victor’s chest and cool arms were curling around him, that he realized what was happening. He fought it every step of the way, kicking out and shrieking like a deranged spirit. Eventually though, he simply ran out of energy and instead slumped against Victor, allowing the god to draw them to the mossy floor of the forest. Yuuri imagined, somewhat hysterically that the softness of the moss was the forest’s way of comforting him. 

“He was my family…” Yuuri cried against Victor’s chest, arms clutching at his back because there was nothing left to do. “He was of  _ Hasetsu _ . He was  _ family _ .” 

Victor kissed his tears away, cold lips pressed to overheated skin, leaving little jolts of energy in his wake. Yuuri felt simultaneously like a child and a thousand years old, body heavy and tired. He desperately wanted to rest, but then he felt incredible guilt at the longing. How dare he wish for sleep when a villager was still burning in Hasetsu. 

Yuuri’s throat was rubbed raw, but his duty bound him to speak. “Will you tell me who killed him?” His head was nestled in Victor’s lap, fingers curled in the material that covered the god’s stomach. 

Victor shook his head sadly, eyes sad. “I cannot, Yuuri. I must remain impartial.” A sigh. “It is one thing to sent boars to your village or to help your crops grow, but I cannot involve myself in the matters of humans.” 

Yuuri had expected the answer, his his heart still stung. “Was he alone, then? When he died?” He asked, voice small. “You were with him then, right?” 

He knew that he was begging, but he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling from his quivering lips. The name  _ Yuuri of Hasetsu  _ had always hung heavy about his neck. Sometimes, it was a warm weight, comfortable and familiar, but often times, it was a stranglehold, squeezing until there was nothing left but the smell of the hotsprings and the cries of the boars. Tonight,  _ Yuuri of Hasetsu  _ was Ryuu boisterously informing Yuuri  _ the forest and I understand each other _ . 

Victor did not speak for a long time, carding his fingers through Yuuri’s hair quietly as the the forest breathed around them. Yuuri could hear twigs cracking in the distance and the shuddering of leaves and the familiar noises calmed his heart with a practiced hand. Eventually, when Yuuri’s heartbeat was slow, once more, and the echoes of Ryuu’s voice had been replaced with the rushing of water in the river and the crunch of dried leaves, did Victor speak, once more. 

“You humans have this incredibly incorrect idea that you all die alone. That when you die, you don’t take anything with you but your name.” He paused here, running fingers through Yuuri’s messy black hair. The gentle press of his fingers felt like the pitter patter of rain. “No one is alone in this forest. You are a part of me. Your people sunk roots into the floors of the forest right alongside my trees. You are of the forest before you are of Hasetsu. You are of the forest before you are  _ anything _ .”

His fingers sunk into Yuuri’s hair, tugging gently to drag Yuuri’s gaze back to him where it had darted away shyly. “I  _ know _ you Yuuri. I know  _ every part _ of you.” A quiet, shuddering breath. “Of  _ course _ he wasn’t alone. Of  _ course _ .”

Yuuri nodded and turned to bury his face in Victor’s stomach. He didn’t cry again, though he came awfully close. Victor patted his back and cooed in his ear, anyway. Eventually, he drifted to sleep, sandwiched between Victor’s cool skin and the soft moss of the forest floor.

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely agonized over whether or not I wanted to post this, but I've been working on this all summer, so I'm going for it. Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Also, my yoi side blog is sexy-pork-cutlets on tumblr, so feel free to message me there, as well!


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